Bedroom Hymns
by geekyartchick
Summary: A fresh start, that was what she had been given. A new beginning, with her scientist, in a new place. She was free from Gotham, free from Cameron.


Her knees were sore from kneeling on the stone floor for so long. Not that she knew how long that she had been at the cathedral, praying to anyone that would listen. Dirty blond locks were tangled around her face, and dried blood and mud on her once white, cotton dress. At first glance, she might have been taken as a homeless woman, but the expensive jewels hanging along her neck told a different story.

"Forgive me father, for I have sinned." She whispered, hands clasped on rosary beads. Her throat was dry, and the tears had run down her had long since evaporated. _What have I done?_

Her lover was sitting a few rows behind her, patiently waiting to leave. There was going on in his head, plots and plans that had to be made so they could escape. He did not feel guilt or remorse for the actions they had committed together. He did not believe that what they did had been wrong. It had been self-defense.

Artemis had never seen herself getting married. She didn't believe in the institution of it, and didn't think that she'd ever find someone that even remotely interested her, yet alone be marriage material. In her opinion, there wasn't a need for it, if you loved someone, you loved them. Screw legalities.

That had been the case with her constantly on-again, off-again romance with Wallace West; A young red-head scientist that she had run into at the local speak-easy. His poorly rehearsed pick-up lines, ramblings of genetics, and face full of freckles had swept her into a passionate affair that had lasted for years. They'd spent hours together, days beginning with drinking and dancing, and nights ended exhausted in between his sheets.

Once the Prohibition ended, their times together became more and more infrequent. Wallace had taken up a job for the government investigating the possibility of slicing cells, or something of the sort. He promised that he'd come back for her.

And then the Depression hit. No one could afford the money to teach their children French, and Artemis no longer had a job. She was out one night with a friend, M'gann, when a well-dressed man asked her to dance. He had icy blue eyes and hair so blond, it looked almost white. Skeptically, she asked for a name. When she heard "Mahkent", surname of one of the most influential gangs in the area, she agreed.

They were married within a month. His entire mafia family, and their thugs, had been present for the wedding. Artemis only had a few friends. The closest one was the sparkling champagne in her glass. The fake smile stayed plastered on her face throughout the night, as his arm hung loosely around her waist and one by one, his relatives came to congratulate them.

They didn't have a honeymoon. Cameron's father had given him more power in the business, and it was necessary that they stayed in Gotham. So Artemis continued to prowl the night life, all the while playing the part of happy housewife. When her husband would return home from days of being 'at the office', he'd bring her pearls or diamonds, she'd make them dinner, and then they'd go to bed.

She was not happy, to be sure. While Artemis was secure in wealth and riches, there was nothing else that made her feel, comfortable. Cameron always did his best to make her feel important, but not in a way that she cared for. Expensive clothes did not cause her to love him, or feel any desire towards him romantically.

For New Year's Eve that year, Cameron had invited almost every influential socialite, politician, and businessman to their grandiose penthouse to celebrate the end of the year. Artemis knew almost none of them personally, and a few from campaign ads out in Times Square. She was alone in a crowd of people. Sitting by herself at the bar, she unconsciously circled the rim of the wine glass with her finger and sighed.

"What's wrong, Beautiful?" A familiar voice came from behind her, along with the hickory smell of tobacco. She knew that scent. Could it be?

Turning around slowly, it was exactly who she had thought it was. The scientist, her scientist; Wallace West. He looked almost the same except with more freckles than before, if that was even possible, and had grown a few inches in height.

They spent the rest of the party together, catching up on what they'd been doing with their lives. He'd helped make serious progress in the genetics department in D.C., and the redhead rambled on about the idea of one day being able to replicate cells. None of this mattered to her, but listening to his smooth voice was like drinking old liquor; it made her happy.

As the clock was close to midnight, he asked her out to lunch tomorrow. She accepted, he kissed her hand, and the two departed. Artemis went to go find her husband, as the brand new year was about to begin and he would want a New Year's kiss.

But as he kissed her, she imagined it was West, that he was the one whispering "I love you", and not Cameron.

She saw Wallace every few days, at first for lunch, then dinner, and then drinks. It was as if they had never been separated. Cameron didn't even notice that she was gone for the first few months. She'd stay nights at a time at Wallace's apartment, the two of them exploring the other's curves and crevices.

Eventually, they made the mistake of coming back to Artemis's place instead of his. Cameron had said he was going to be in Los Angeles for the weekend, so the two sought the opportunity of not caring where they made love. She lead him into the bedroom, her grey eyes already undressing him. He caressed her cheek and unzipped her white cocktail dress, their lips locked together during the process.

Falling into the bed, their bodies became one, and they drifted into bliss. Sweet carnal instinct took over, and they moaned together in harmonious melody.

But it did not last for long, as a slamming door from the front room, separated the lovers.

She tried to hide him in the dressing room, but it was too late. Cameron had stepped into the room, eyes ablaze.

Yells and screams came from his throat, swearing that he'd loved her and cursing her for cheating. He shoved Wally against the wall, promising him a long, painful death.

Artemis could not let this happen, and her body moved without thinking to grab the vase on the side-table. She smashed it atop Cameron's head, glass shattering into his skull.

She'd killed him.

Blood soaked into the carpet, and Wally dragged her from off the floor, telling her to get dressed.

"We have to get rid of the body, alright Artemis?"

She nodded, lips parted slightly. Shock coursed through her veins like a poison, slowing her responses.

Hours later, the body had been buried six feet under, in the middle of a field in the countryside of New York. Wallace had managed to get them packed up and out of the city, and after disposing of 'the evidence', began a long car ride to Washington D.C., where he said he knew people that would help them.

She'd ask him to stop the car as they'd passed an old cathedral.

Covered in mud and blood, she silently passed through the pews to the main deck, and knelt down to pray. She hadn't been to church in years, let alone prayed. But, now was the time, she'd decided, that it'd be good to start again.

A fresh start, that was what she had been given. A new beginning, with her scientist, in a new place. She was free from Gotham, free from Cameron.

_I can get past this, Wallace and I will get past this, together._


End file.
